By Lexington Rivera

One of the most romantic things my boyfriend has ever done was cover my eyes during a particularly nasty scene in Green Room.

I didn’t remind him of my hatred of certain bone breaks in movies. There was no conversation. He simply told me something was coming and put his arms up around me and I believed him. Our four year anniversary is on Thursday and I’ve yet to see that movie scene in full.

Before I met him I never watched horror movies. My mother is a scaredy cat that in turn raised me to be one, especially after peeking around the corner of the sofa while my sister watched Jeepers Creepers which ultimately resulted in nightmares that could only be solved if someone stayed with me until I fell asleep. So for a large part of my life I went without the blood and gore of horror. It was around me and I knew of it but mostly I kept it blocked off. Unlike me, my boyfriend has always loved them. One day while hanging out with his mom she showed me a picture of him dressed as Hannibal Lector from Silence of the Lambs for Halloween. So by trick of fate we of course ended up together.

I understand that watching people get dismembered isn’t really everyone’s date night material. Or that I shouldn’t look at the dying girl on the screen and say “if that were us I totally would’ve known it wasn’t you and killed you first” but it’s fine with him I’m sure. And it’s not just that there are killers on the loose or the threat of pigs blood looming just above the unknowing prom queens head-well it kind of is- but no matter. It’s the idea that life persists. It’s the idea that you want the characters to live, you feel something for them. Sometimes they’re tender hearted believers and sometimes they can’t be bothered to be kind but no matter the threat of whatever is going on they cry or they hold hands or they run. They’re exactly human in the moments before their death. Fear strips them of who they think they are and cuts into who they actually are. It’s the divide between thinking you’ll do the right thing and actually doing it. It’s about guts. Bloody, squishy and hot guts. Having them, losing them, wanting them, eating them. Some of my favorite movies about love, friendship, morality are hidden until monstrous clowns and creature features. I guess that’s why I keep watching, because I believe against the better judgement of a lot of people that life is worth fighting for.

It’s the same reason that I am in love. If there ever could be a solid “reason” to loving another person. It’s the same reason he covers my eyes at parts that freak me out. The same reason I know how he likes to sleep and where he grew up. It’s because my life didn’t end when I started being afraid, a newborn crying into the fluorescence of a hospital room. Fear is the first emotion you think of when you think of a horror movie. The second, perseverance. Living on despite the fear. My life started the day I accepted that I couldn’t run from fear. It started when I went looking for things that made me afraid. It started when I found someone who wanted to be near me when I overturned every rock inside me to see what was crawling around. So we watch things that make people scared and decide to do it together.

At the end of IT: The First Chapter the kids stand in a circle holding hands. They defeat Pennywise with laughter. But Eddie still dies, sorry for the spoiler you’re nearly a million years late. Freddy Kruger kills countless kids. Carrie get’s covered in pigs blood. The zombies kill babies and Politian’s. Sometimes you don’t win. Sometimes a monster is just a monster. Sometimes it rips your guts out and spills them on the clean floor. Sometimes the beast keeps you alive and makes it so you can’t ever die but you’ll want to. Sometimes the monster is your mother. Sometimes the monster is your friend and it knows exactly where to poke. You’ll lose your mind too. Lose your faith. It will take everything from you, blood and all. It will leave you hollow and you will only know the space between.

But sometimes you do win. Sometimes you run faster, think harder, work better. You win and you make it to the end of the film. You are the final girl. You have no more fear. Sometimes you eat fear for breakfast and it makes you stronger. You win and live long enough to see the sun brush the tops of the trees outside your childhood window except you’re not a child anymore you’re in your twenty’s and you’re in love. You win and someone waits for you to wake up to start their day. You win and the monster is slain dead at your feet. Or you win and the monster just fucked off somewhere that isn’t here. You win and your friends will remember something about you that you thought was lost. You win and your cat waits for you by the door every day. You become better than the things that scare you. Stronger than the fear is your hand in the hand of another. The night always ends. You win.

You win and live long enough to meet them. Whoever they are that makes being brave easier. Someone that gives you the guts to be afraid and go on living anyway.